Sighing Familiarities
by ivybluesummers
Summary: [shounen ai] Kogure's on his way home, with his body slouched on the usual seats of Kanagawa trains... snows falling, christmas nearing... and meeting someone in the most unexpected yet familiar ways, like starting all over again...
1. 1

_Formerly titled "Rhythm, Just Communication"... revised it for some precious reasons. I haven't been writing fanfics for so long, I know it's hackneyed so you're free to flame, but reviews are always welcome. Borrowed a line from HBO's "Normal" (2nd chapter) and some themes of Jamie O'Neill's "At Swim Two Boys" (1st chapter). Standard disclaimers apply. _

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**Sighing Familiarities**

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It seems to him that such ways where leaves fall on the trees swaying zenith in its rush makes the pang of guilt breed itself enormously. The way the moon ached in the distance, in its platinum color, the way the stars moaned of perfection – glittering and shimmering, the way the snows breeze themselves down the pavements. Truthfully, amidst the starkness of the world begging for embellishment, the Kanagawa train station buzzed as trains string firmly on the rails, metal against metal, snow melting as faint orange hues spark at the verge of friction.

With a very deep sigh, Kogure closed the book. Two long hours on the seat and his body felt numb, especially somewhere in the bottom. His thighs shifted every moment or so, in ways an impatient man does. Two long hours on the threshold of the Kanagawa train. Placing the book on his bag, he then rested his eyes on the unchanging window beside him. The window is snowing.

No, the window itself is not the snow. He smiled at the sudden thoughtless brain wave. A day now before Christmas, going home by the bays of the endless chains of houses on the sides of the pavements. Surely, yet surely...

The train stopped, much to Kogure Kiminobu's growing impatience. Three sets of automatic doors opened, revealing people in their furry and leathery coats, some in their usual garments of shirt and jeans. Leaving. Some were leaving the bus, some were setting foot. The way the people disappear and the way the bus refreshes itself with others coming in made the chocolate-eyed boy to stare at them in amusement, almost like a passing moment to sharpen his boredom. Another moment of the moments, the dull moments that seemed to everyone are all and petty. The sun shines at night, too.

Shifting uncomfortably, Kogure sighed as he looked again on the window. High above the outskirts of Kanagawa, buildings stood almost boisterously with neon lights – shrill red, green and blue lights that embroidered each of the passing buildings, the sky so gray yet unflustered, the snow falling almost abruptly, yet leisurely on the russet-eyed lad's sight. With another wince, he looked at his left, only to be surprised as another man, in his boyish look, sat.

Boyish trim, the way it was cut. It almost reminded him of his friend of the heart, a friend of the heart by the name of Hisashi Mitsui. Pale skin glowed against the fluorescent lights, squinting eyes that felt prying, almost undoubtedly indeed. Kogure just smiled then.

"Going home I see," the man whispered loudly.

"Yes..."

The man gave an impression of familiarity. Familiar yet distant on the confines, purely proverbial in its sense. With another look on the man, Kogure smiled. "Soichiro Jin."

"Yes, I am indeed."

"You-you're..." the man sighed. "Shohoku is it?"

"Yes..."

"You must be the vice captain back then. Ko-Kog..."

"Kiminobu Kogure."

He smiled. "I think I'm ashamed of myself."

Kogure sneered lightly. "Don't be. It's normal to forget people's names, especially when you really don't know them." Now the syntax he used only furthered his confusion. With a long groan from the man behind them, both, in speculating stares, laughed heartily. That ought to break the ice.

"Where do you study?" Jin asked.

"Oh? Me?"

"I bet Tokyo University," Jin scratched his head from unknown reason.

Was Kogure making him uneasy? Kogure put his bag on his lap and stared at it for a second or so. Another second on the corners of the snowed window, the air now turning warm, body inexplicably agitated. For a while he thought he was blushing, and at its sudden realization he started shrugging it off with a shudder on his back, muscles flexing at the screeching sounds of his shoes. With a nonchalant moment, he stared again at the boy.

"Yes, I am actually. Going home for the vacation."

"I see..."

"You?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you... Where do you study?"

Jin hesitated a bit, and started fumbling his coat and unfastened the two buttons, revealing more pale skin, the shirt almost bluish in its hue, and the collar and cloth that fixed firmly opened a bit. Kogure recoiled unnoticed. It again reminded him of his friend of the heart, friend of the heart Hisashi Mitsui.

"Hakone Academy, down by the bays."

"Oh,"

Now why would he say oh?

"I see..."

Another pang of silence swathed them, and for a moment, Jin switched the focus of his eyes on anything but Kogure's. This made the chocolate-eyed boy slightly insecure. With a sprawl of Jin's palms, another closed fist, then sprawling again... He looked straight at Kogure and smiled. What an unruffled exploit it made impact on Kogure's mind, and at the back of his psyche, the touch of the other boy's hand on him made his spine tingle, for no reason at all that is. Soft but callused skin he felt, almost perspiring, and the chocolate eyed boy, in his uttermost smile, longed for the touch again as Jin's hands departed from his hold. We haven't got any formal introductions. I'm Soichiro Jin. I'm Kogure Kiminobu. Nice meeting you. Me too.

With a soft sigh, Jin smiled as he looked at his own hand that just held Kogure's seconds ago. Returning his gaze at the brown-eyed boy, he felt another tingle from his spine, remembering those days where basketballs seemed electric at the rings, shooting five hundreds, remembering, and the sting made the boyish creature blush slightly.

"How are the others?"

"Others? Maki you mean. Kiyota and the whole team?"

"Yes."

Why are you asking them to me? I don't have the slightest idea. Can't we talk something else?

"I don't know about them... the last time I heard Maki went abroad."

"I see."

"How are you then?" he smiled.

"Oh, you know..." Kogure smiled, "...same old college things..."

"That I can relate with."

Kogure chuckled. "Yeah, I never thought it could all go clichéd. It is."

"I couldn't agree more."

The train stopped. How long was it since then? Thirty minutes... wait, forty-five minutes to be exact. That long? Kogure then stopped himself and gathered his two other bags at his feet, clutching almost hesitatingly and with a deep moan of disappointment. The snows have stopped snowing and the buzzing noises started to roam about his ears, the sight of the houses as small as his thumb looking bigger and bigger in his eyes, the station humming and bustling of departing. The sun shines at night, too, but the night polishes at daylight even. Snows on the Kanagawa, Christmas overloads, memory in its foundation, almost like starting all over again. Tell me what the snows know, he thought. Rhythmic... justly forthcoming. With a sigh, Kogure stood up.

"Nice meeting you, Jin-san."

"Yes, me too... Hey,"

Kogure blinked as he swiveled his head.

"Can I see you again some time?" Jin asked.

And where did those words come? Familiarity? On the domains of the lonely seekers?

"On this station then? Tomorrow, same time," he continued.

"This very time?"

"Yes," What a smile, eh?

Wait... wait! The train engines started running again, and the chocolate-eyed boy almost fell from where he stood, only to be held by strong arms that sure weren't his. A bag slipped from his hold, and a grip tightened from the other, not because to secure his clutch and because the other one already fell, but truly because of the moving things Kogure felt that in reality were all and static from where they stood. No one cares anyway, except them both. Inches away, their faces looked towards each other, and with a skip of a heart, two smiles roughly met and joined, nearly speaking of meaningful recollection. Speaking in the most silenced words.

"You missed the stop... over," the boyish lad has said almost humorously. Kogure mustered his most authentic smile.

"It's okay. I'll take a cab at the next stopover."

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_Just want to clarify that designation of time here is phenomenological, hence no constraints from standard chronometers. _


	2. 2

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From the brown-haired's sight; neon streetlights buzzed and several swift cars illuminated the entirety of Kanagawa's contours, or was it the other way around? He surprisingly cannot tell. Snowflakes are pale and the clouds are forming silhouettes unknown to his scholarly memories; it is almost midnight from the chill – shivering down – but it was actually six thirty on the dot, the same time that he was in here yesterday. Down in his seemingly last black caffeine, now warm from coldness, Kiminobu Kogure waited for Soichiro Jin, as of the same mind.

Stenciling any more snowflakes on his black furry coat, he decided to shelter his body on the train station. It's funny how unpredictable moments can turn into earth-shattering moments; man's life is supposed to be lived from his desires as regards to contemporaneous experiences, his awareness of its teleological implications. Never was Kogure a believer of this tenet, but how it makes wonder; right here, right now, he cannot decipher. Near the automatic doors of the Kanagawa train he was sitting and enjoying his company – himself and the coffee obviously – and it would get merrier if Jin fills his promise, which by the way he himself thought of. With a fast sip on the coffee getting colder by the second, he smiled, knowing too well and doing too much.

But before this night could all end in a futile situation of rhythmic idleness and social half-life, he has prepared himself how to overcome it; before anything else hide in their places Kogure decided to prepare because for one thing, it was worth deciding, and it was worth overcoming social possibilities. Oh well, he didn't come. Might as well go into some arcade, play some Silent Hill and savor solitude. Or pamper myself in the spa, then to a ramen house, burn all the books when I get home for academics was tiring me. What an excuse.

It's funny that Kogure thinks that way, the fear that has overwhelmed his psyche for better or for worse. The way through which men approach the fulfillment of such goals towards intimacy is an act of egoism. The conquest people are in as regards with love and everything else necessitates an understanding of frustrations eager to be fulfilled, as love isn't pure until it is tainted, until it is taken hopelessly and frustratingly.

Kogure grimaced. Maybe when Soichiro Jin came he could finally trigger an end to these profound thoughts. Six-thirty five. That short of a time?

A door opened ajar from Kogure's sight and there the boyish lad appeared like a phenomenon. Faded jeans and white shirt harbored Jin's body, his coat fumbled on his shoulders. He was cold but he didn't mind, his thoughts of coming late making him worried and warm at the same time. He sat beside Kogure. "Hey,"

Kogure's eyes widened from the voice. A smile quickly escaped from his face and tried not to blush. With a swift reflex both stood up, coffee spilling in Kogure's denims. "Oh!"

"Don't worry, I just spilled the coffee,"

"I'm sorry," Jin said, taking out a piece of cloth and tried to wipe the smeared clothing. Kogure felt red, shoving the lad gently. All Jin could do was to scratch his head. "It's okay," and both were gone after some minutes.

It's funny how Kogure, at the same time, anticipated the merry moment when he had prepared himself negativity. The park smelled moss and soil but fragrant in its natural sense, the whiff of snow he can even feel. Nature in the midst of nature the park is revelry, a festival of memories that has been the witness of all kinds of companionship. Both sat still by the bench and savored themselves of nothing but familiarity, closeness in its very meaning. Jin never was a believer of that first sight madness, and it was clear-cut so to speak; but looking at the lithe body of Kogure he knew too well of the madness in the stillness of his heart.

"Lovely sky isn't it?"

"Eh?" Kogure heard what the other say, but was too occupied on whether to break the ice or not.

"The stars; I think the gods have saved us this moment,"

Since when did the conversation included god? Or gods?

"I didn't see them before,"

"Oh,"

By then a shuriken of abstract red came into their view and it sparkled yellow and green afterwards, a gesture of Christmas appreciation. It bustled gently on their ears like gentle drums of a classical song, jazzing themselves on the threshold of revelry, moments and thoughts that never seemed to end. More hues came running down their sight, a mixture of the elemental hues of Christmas; waltzing Kogure as Jin smiles. Friend of the heart Hisashi Mitsui, wherever you are, I'm sure you're having a blast, like you always assured me.

"Merry Christmas Kogure,"

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Click on the key, turn the knob. Rush into the shower, take off that weariness. With such thoughts Mitsui walked down the snowed pavements, looking at those boulders beside the alley. With his black trousers and maroon shirt, he yet again remembered it right. The journey to innocence. And all he could do is to savor his isolation from the worldliness of the earth before him.

-------

Few days passed.

Pass the sakura festival, both settled on Jin's abode. Kogure wondered how the lad manages his life and his practical knowledge failed him of knowing. It's staggering nonetheless, or so the chocolate-eyed thought. "Mind you, I'ma cook this for us both,"

"You said so," Kogure smiled, taking out some items other than that fish already lying on the kitchen sink. "What're you doing with the fish anyway," the brown-eyed mumbled. "What catch eh?"

Jin smiled cooking what they bought, a contented little lad of love's idealism. They had eaten it afterwards even before they could notice time, too busy perhaps from staring at each other. Thanks to early Christmas vacations, unpredictability became Kogure's savor of life, Jin's as well. You're a good cook. Really? I'll take that as a compliment. You should.

Sunday morning it was then, Kogure slouching in Jin's bed, Soichiro just sitting on a chair and staring like the picture was art's reality and savoring the scenic sight before him.

Deep within his consciousness, Kogure was dreaming of Christmas and trains, snows and neon lights, meeting and waiting for someone to come on some rhythmic and cosmic kind of intimate profusion. Kogure was dreaming of the best Christmas vacation he didn't notice he was already having one.

Oh disarming soul. Sweet Soichiro. What we do for love.


End file.
